


Gunning

by Porkchop_Sandwiches



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M, Shooting Guns, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: Even though Jesse watched Mike walk over, it still surprised him when Mike stood behind him and started like man-handling Jesse’s arms. He wasn’t doing it so hard that Jesse didn’t have a say, just enough to be helpful and shit. Stern but gentle, just like Jesse’d imagined Mike pulling Jesse’s cock out of his jeans while they were in his car somewhere at night. His hands would be kind of scratchy in a good way like they were now.Mike teaches Jesse how to shoot.
Relationships: Mike Ehrmantraut/Jesse Pinkman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56
Collections: Blue Christmeth 2019





	Gunning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [What_we_are](https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_we_are/gifts).



> Written for the prompt, "Mike teaches Jesse how to shoot and they have sexual tension, possibly resolved sexual tension."

“This is bullshit,” Jesse said. He leaned back against the passenger-side door of Mike’s car and scratched his arm even though it didn’t itch. He’d ditched his leather jacket ‘cause he was getting warm even though Mike was still wearing a jacket. “ _ Mike. Yo, Mike.  _ You got a dick in your mouth or are you just fucking deaf? Mike? _ ”  _

Jesse tightened his jaw. Dude wasn’t listening. What the fuck?

“You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. Mike actually paused, let the hammer in his hand hang by his side and turned around to face Jesse. He looked like he actually gave a shit about Jesse having plans or whatever. Made Jesse feel sort of bad. “Like anywhere that ain’t here.”

Mike made kind of a sour face, squinting in the sun. “Kid, shut up.”

Jesse mouthed his words behind Mike’s back and softly kicked at a rock. They’d been driving around for over an hour and hadn’t stopped at even one drop sight. Jesse wasn’t sure where they were now other than desert and a good deals off from any main roads. If he hadn't been riding around with the guy for a couple of weeks, he’d be kind of like worried. Mike had some wood and nails and was making something. But it didn’t look scary or like a weapon. Actually, it looked like one of the easels they had in his sophomore year of high school art class.

“Yo, you drive me all the way out here to like paint me? ‘Cause if your old ass thinks I’m posing for like...a nude then like...you know, no way.”

When Jesse didn’t get a scoff or even a motherfucking eye-roll, he sighed and shut his eyes and tipped his face up into the sunshine. Now he was getting cold. He was pretty sure the car was locked. His like body temp only did this yo-yo shit when he was withdrawing. 

It could make him mean too. Kind of like the chick he took to prom junior year: for like the whole month leading up to the dance she was acting like a total bitch ‘cause she wasn’t really eating so she could look like skinnier for pictures or whatever. He’d thought it was pretty fucking stupid except he’d gotten a lot of blowjobs that month. And here he was acting the same now: pissy for no reason. But he wasn’t craving the Frosty and fries his date had wolfed down in the parking lot of Wendy’s while they were both baked at 1 AM after prom. Jesse wanted crystal. Or at least his body did.

“You ready, kid?”

The back of Jesse’s scalp felt good being up against the warm metal from the top of Mike’s car and Jesse didn’t feel like moving but he opened his eyes anyway. Mike had added a paper to his easel-looking shit. It had a circle with another circle inside of that and another circle inside of that one: a target.

Jesse felt like a kid who said he was bored on summer break too loud around his mom and now he was mowing the lawn instead of playing Donkey Kong. ‘Cause Jesse had asked Mike why Jesse didn’t have a gun on him and shit, but he didn’t think Mike would be taking him out to bum-fuck-nowhere to teach him how to shoot.

“Yo, I’ve shot a gun before.”

“I’m well aware,” Mike said. “But shooting someone doesn’t mean you know how to use a gun. Doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you carrying one around me. We’ll just cover the basics.”

Jesse sighed again. He waited a minute with the guy just staring at him. 

“Mike, you gonna give me a gun or you just want me to like whip out my dick and practice shooting that way?”

Mike gave him one of those looks like he wanted to call Jesse a little shit again. For some reason Jesse wanted him to. Which seemed fucked up. But maybe not so much as maybe having sort of a crush on the dude. 

It wasn’t too big of a deal. Jesse was just like that was all. He’d never tell anybody but he sort of got crushes like more often than Mr. White replaced his fucking windshield. 

Alls it took was somebody being nice to him, to give him like some compliments and eye contact and being close to his body and  _ bam  _ Jesse had a stupid crush. He was like a fucking stray dog in that way. So like Mike drove him around, gave him a couple bites of his meatloaf and said, “Good job, kid,” and now Jesse was like thinking about the dude’s big, sturdy hands on his shoulders, then his thighs, and yeah, his dick too. His body was sort of a complete psycho.

“Before you ask,” Mike said--He had the same glock he’d loaned Jesse the other day at the chicken farm-- “Yes, it is loaded. So try not pointing at me or yourself. And don’t be an asshole. You got that?”

He sounded mad. 

Jesse smirked. “No Russian roulette or like...weird, kinky gun-play shit. Got it.”

Jesse was pretty proud of the eye-roll he got. But once he was holding the gun, he like right away felt like a stupid, little shit. He’d never done this in front of Mike before. It was like he completely froze. 

Mike held out his arms. “Is this the part where you--what was it--whip out your dick? Or we going to practice?”

“Yo, I thought you were teaching me.”

He nodded to the target. “I need to see what I’m working with first.”

Jesse pushed himself off the side of Mike’s car, tugging up his jeans a little and walked until he was like a suitable distance from the target. He made sure Mike was standing somewhere safe off to the side. Then he gave the whole place a once-over ‘cause why the hell not? Still in the middle of the bum-fuck-no-where desert: right. 

He sniffed, cleared his throat, spit. Raising the gun, he used his right eye to aim ‘cause he was right-handed. He sniffed again. 

The crack of the gun echoed off every solid surface like a bottle rocket. A hole was left at just the cusp of the  _ very _ outer ring of the target. 

“ _ Shit _ .”

“It’s a good start. Better than most of the rookie cops I worked with,” Mike said. He sounded like he meant it too. Not like some of those half-ass compliments Mr. White threw out sometimes. “But your stance could use some work.”

Even though Jesse watched Mike walk over, it still surprised him when Mike stood behind him and started like man-handling Jesse’s arms. He wasn’t doing it so hard that Jesse didn’t have a say, just enough to be helpful and shit. Stern but gentle, just like Jesse’d imagined Mike pulling Jesse’s cock out of his jeans while they were in his car somewhere at night. His hands would be kind of scratchy in a good way like they were now. 

It took Jesse a second to remember what they were doing and that he wasn’t supposed to be so into this. Especially since the guy was sort of like all around him and up against his back. 

“Yo, what are you fucking Patrick Swayze?” Jesse said. “We about to make some like pottery? Maybe a clay dildo or butt plug or--”

Mike flicked Jesse’s ear. “You done?”

“ _ Geez _ .” Jesse flinched but couldn’t stop from smiling a little. “Yeah. Fine. I’m done.”

“Okay, let’s talk about your grip. Needs to be tight.” Mike cupped the back of Jesse’s knuckles around the handle of the gun. “Hands should shake at first then ease up but not too much. About as firm as a handshake. Got that?”

Jesse nodded and hoped he wasn’t shaking too bad or if he was that Mike wouldn’t mention it. 

“Thumb over thumb. You’re right handed, right? Okay, that’s good.”

“Good,” Jesse said.

From this close Mike smelled even more like Old Spice than normal and for whatever reason it was sort of doing it for Jesse. The guy’s jacket was soft against the back of Jesse’s arms. Some birds flew past overhead and Jesse thought of feathers, soft shit like down pillows. He wondered if Mike had ever thought about fucking him. 

“Your index finger should be at the middle of the trigger. You want one smooth motion, no jerking, no--”

“Jerk  _ this _ ,” Jesse muttered. He got a light smack on the back of the head. 

\--”Don’t speed up or slow down. Keep it at one smooth, speed. You only want to pull the trigger. No jerking or squeezing.”

Yo why was everything sounding dirty all of a sudden?

“Got it,” Jesse said.

“Raise your arm. You want it at a rigid, hard line with the gun.”

For fuck’s sake, was Mike like  _ trying  _ now?

“Breathing’s important too.” He clapped a big hand against Jesse’s like sternum or whatever. And Jesse sort of started shaking again. “You good, kid?”

“Fine.” He tried to keep up the whole irritated shit he had going. 

“Inhale while you bring the gun to eye-level. Keep your arm rigid. Good. You want to think of it as a half-breath. Breathe in a little”--It almost felt like Mike was hugging him with the way he pressed his hand into Jesse’s chest-- “let some air out but not all the way, then fire. And when you do, you always finish the shot. No halfway stuff, understand? That’s when people start losing toes.” 

Mike was still touching him. His palm felt warm through Jesse’s t-shirt. 

Jesse just nodded again. A part of him didn’t want Mike to move away. ‘Cause yeah it had been a while since anybody had hugged him or asked if he was alright. But maybe Jesse was getting  _ too  _ attached to Mike. Jesse was feeling like that stray dog again, like Jesse actually found somebody cool throwing him scraps who wanted him to stick around. Except Mike was probably just doing what Fring told him. But like don’t go telling Jesse’s dumb-fuck heart that.

“You ready?” Jesse said.

He didn’t want to look behind him in case his face looked weird to Mike, like dazed or some shit. 

“Go ahead.”

Mike sounded like he was far enough away, and confident, like he had any shred of belief that Jesse wouldn’t fuck this up. And how hard was that anyway? Just to have somebody in his corner who legit thought he could do something on his own? Do something...like smart.

Jesse aimed and paid close attention to the way his arms were before he pulled the trigger in one motion. 

It was a couple of inches up and to the right of the inner ring.

He firmed up his grip, released, did the same thing with his breath and tried again.

Bullseye.

Jesse fired off a round. The red dot in the center was big enough for him to shoot it another five times. Paper shredded with each shot: all bullseyes. 

“ _ Yeah suck it, bitch _ ,” Jesse said. He jumped a little, though like careful with the gun. 

He turned to see Mike sort of smiling at him. He was holding a plastic Albertsons bag. 

“I got some more targets if you want.”

Jesse shrugged even though he was pretty pumped. “Guess so.”

Mike smirked at Jesse like he knew just how much fun Jesse was actually having. Jesse was aware his poker face was kind of shit. 

Mike walked out to the target and managed to tip it on its side to line up what looked like plastic Ensure bottles on top of the wood siding. 

While he waited for Mike, Jesse practiced aiming the gun at random shit though with his finger off the trigger. He pretended his eye had a scope like in Call of Duty and made machine gun noises under his breath. There was this cow skull about twenty-odd yards from Mike. Jesse wondered if he could make it.

“Ready when you are, kid.”

The dude had given himself plenty of distance. There were seven bottles. 

He pulled the trigger and found it blank.

Mike motioned to Jesse’s side, and when he looked down he saw one of Mike’s duffel bags though he wasn’t sure when it got there. There was a spare set of clothes inside: khaki pants and a shirt. He touched the pants before pulling out a box of bullets. 

He loaded the gun and shot nothing but fucking air twice in a row.

“Just take it easy. Get back in the zone. You’re doing good, Jesse.”

It was weird how much Jesse liked hearing that shit. 

He made his arm more rigid and popped off three bottles one by one. They made a different kind of noise. The plastic sort of popped, almost like bubble wrap but way louder. It was satisfying in a way. 

Jesse sort of got lost in the motion. When there was only one left, he looked over at Mike and kind of almost jumped when he realized how much closer the guy was. And he was watching Jesse like pretty damn intently.

“You gonna shoot anything or you just like being a perv and staring at me?”

Mike gave him no reaction with his arms crossed. “I’m fine right here.”

Jesse squared his shoulders and hit the last bottle practically like dead-center. Some of the liquid was still inside and it even squirted out the front all milky-looking. 

“Yo, you drink that stuff?” Jesse said. 

“What else am I supposed to wash down my Viagra with?” 

The dude was so fucking dead-eye, it took Jesse a second to realize he was joking around. 

All he could snap back with was a drawn out, “ _ Wow. _ ” It was lame but whatever. He faced forward again and found the only thing basically left to shoot. “Yo, see that cow skull?”

Mike shielded his eyes with one hand. “Yeah?”

“I hit that and you let me smoke on the drive back.”

“ _ Seriously _ ?” Mike chuckled. “Kid, you hit that...and I’ll give you a reason to have a smoke.”

Jesse looked back at him with an eyebrow cocked, sort of fucking scared. “What the fuck’s that mean?”

Mike shrugged. “Let’s just say with age comes experience. And my mouth isn’t just good for making conversation. If you catch my drift.”

Jesse fucking caught it alright. Felt like he caught it right in his throat where a lump had grown like a fucking tumor or something. Yeah, Jesse had been halfway teasing and flirting or whatever but this seemed different, like serious. 

“Better pay up,” Jesse said under his breath.

He wasn’t really sure what he meant by that but after a few seconds he was able to clear his head, inhale just halfway with the gun hopefully poised like totally perfect. On the exhale he pulled the trigger.

He hit the tip of the right horn and it flaked off into tiny shards. 

Jesse let out a sort of excited grunt. “ _ Yes _ .”

He flipped the safety back on the gun and decided cleaning up was the least awkward thing he could do at this point. Not like Mike was going to just drop on his knees and suck Jesse off right now. But Jesse still felt weird.

They didn’t talk as Jesse scooped up the bottles and bagged them as Mike got the wooden stand. Everything fit in the trunk even with Mike’s duffel. 

When they got back in the car, Mike handed Jesse his pack of Wilmington’s from where Jesse left them on the center console.

“Smoke up, kid,” Mike said.

Jesse cracked his window while Mike started up the car. The time on the radio read three-twenty, no music on, of course. Jesse lit up a cigarette and took a long pull and all he could think was the only time Mike had let him smoke was when he’d like protected him from those guys...and that had been like a blue-fucking-moon situation. So what was this?  _ Shit,  _ was Mike really going to fucking blow him?

\-----

Jesse thought they’d never fucking make it to his house. The drive had gone on and on even with no traffic. He’d chain-smoked three cigarettes but Mike hadn’t said anything. 

His goddamn stomach felt even weirder once he noticed it was only just after four o’ clock now. It felt like they’d been in here forever. 

Mike killed the engine but didn’t look at Jesse.

He wasn’t sure if he should even bring up the joke. ‘Cause it had to be a joke, right? But if it was a joke then it would be no big deal. And if it wasn’t then that could be cool too.  _ Fuck it. _

“You uh...you gonna pay up and like...put your mouth where your...”

Jesse was going for like confident and shit but his brain was buzzing too loud like his ears were clogged and full of static. 

Mike kept looking straight ahead. “Where your dick is?”

Jesse would have like coughed or something but somehow his mouth was too dry to cough.

“ _ Shit _ .”

“Are you inviting me inside, Jesse?” When Jesse didn’t answer, surprised being like addressed by name, Mike kept going. “I’d do it out here but my neck’s not what it used to be. It’d be better on the futon.” 

Jesse stared at him. “You serious? Like you...want to do this?”

“I’m game if you are.” Mike said.

And the dude was looking at him kind of soft; serious but in like a sensitive like genuine way that was totally Mike. He looked sort of like horny too. 

Jesse nodded.

\-----

Shivering fucking everywhere, Jesse tried not to keep from bucking up from the futon with his dick out and in Mike’s mouth. His jeans were at his ankles and Mike was on his knees with his hands totally sturdy and firm on Jesse’s thighs.

Just minutes ago Jesse had asked if Mike  _ really _ like actually wanted to do this.

The guy was already working Jesse’s belt open. It was like he was on a fucking mission or something. Like he’d thought about this before. 

He’d rubbed Jesse through his boxers. Shit was going fast. Jesse was fucking rigid as hell almost right away.

“I want to do this, Jesse. As long as you want me to. I want this.”

Jesse licked his lips and widened his stance as like a go-ahead or whatever. Mike seemed to understand. 

And fuck it if the guy wasn’t giving Jesse the best goddamn blowjob of his life. His tongue trailed the underside of Jesse’s cock, mouth suctioning around the tip before pulling off and then sliding Jesse back into Mike’s warm mouth.

“ _ Fuck... _ how the fuck are this fucking good at this?”

Mike pulled back with a wet smack while he thumbed at the head of Jesse’s prick.

“Kid, I’ve been sucking cock longer than you’ve been alive.”

Mike took Jesse in almost the whole way and Jesse moaned ‘cause like  _ shit  _ why did that sound so hot? Jesse never was like super into age differences aside from like MILFs. But maybe it worked with Mike.

He let out another moan when the dude started thumbing his balls. Mike’s goatee was brushing against Jesse’s inner thigh as he sucked harder.

“ _ Ah...Mike. Shit.  _ I’m gonna--”

Jesse couldn’t even fucking speak when Mike hummed around his cock. He just held Mike’s shoulder and came right in the guy’s mouth. And Mike licked him until Jesse was done, swallowed around him.

Jesse was panting as Mike got himself back on his feet. He didn’t know what to say so he just watched the dude walk away. Jesse pulled his jeans up and like made himself decent. He heard the kitchen sink run and some like gargling sounds before Mike walked back with a glass of water and a can of Mountain Dew.

He handed the soda to Jesse.

“We were out in the desert for quite a while.”

“Thanks,” Jesse said. 

He popped it open and took a few sips even though he didn’t feel all that thirsty. Mike didn’t sit down even after a minute or two. Jesse set his drink down and stood up ‘cause he figured the guy wanted to leave, even if Jesse didn’t want him to. But Mike didn’t move so they were sort of like toe to toe.

“Would I be out of line if I tried to kiss you?” Mike said.

Jesse shook his head and smiled. It was weird but nice getting asked. Like he was some lady in one of those old-timey books he only half-read in school ‘cause he was too busy getting high. He touched Mike’s arm and Jesse wasn’t even shaking.

Mike cupped the side of Jesse’s jaw and Jesse shut his eyes right before Mike kissed him.

And  _ shit _ was it softer than it had any fucking right to be. Not pushy. Just soft and sort of fucking sweet. 

Jesse pulled away. “Yo, you want me to like...return the favor? I’ve never done it with my mouth before, but like I can use my hand.”

Mike shook his head.

“You sure?” Jesse felt like he was ripping him off. “It ain’t head but like...I still want to make you feel good.”

Mike moved his palm up to Jesse’s cheek.

“I’m fine right here.”

Jesse kissed Mike this time, just a little harder. He held Mike’s free hand and liked how he squeezed it back. After a couple of minutes, Mike pulled away and rubbed Jesse’s wrist.

Jesse licked his lips. 

“What are you up to for the rest of the day?”--

“You hungry?”--

They talked at the same time and Jesse chuckled. 

“Not really,” Jesse said. “You want to watch some TV or something?’

Mike hummed. 

“I need to pick up a poster board and some sort of special markers for Kaylee’s art project. The craft store’s on the other side of town and her mom’s working a double,” Mike said. And Jesse wished he’d taken Mike up on his offer for food ‘cause it felt like he’d like blown his chance. “You want to keep me company? Maybe try to explain to me what the hell bubble letters are?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. 

He was smiling when he grabbed his keys. There was something exciting about hanging with Mike for something that didn’t have to do with work or anything. He followed Mike to the door.

“Who knows, maybe after it gets dark and I get lucky we can kiss some more in the car.”

Jesse snickered. “Yeah, odds are like...totally in your favor, man.”


End file.
